


Something in the Air

by pulpriter



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, unmitigated fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 18:27:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4575138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pulpriter/pseuds/pulpriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phryne’s flying high, but never really gets off the ground</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something in the Air

**Author's Note:**

> A gentle reader requested more fluff! Be careful what you wish for. This story appeared out of—well—thin air.  
> I don’t own any of these characters, I just love them.  
> Please review and comment.

Detective Inspector Jack Robinson was having a peaceful day until his phone rang.  
“This is Mac. I need you,” Dr. Elizabeth MacMillan said bluntly.  
“Er—can you be more specific?” Jack asked. “Should I bring Collins?”  
“No. Come alone. Phryne got a noseful of nitrous oxide. I’m calling you because she needs a keeper!” 

He wasn’t sure what would be awaiting him at the morgue, but he got there as quickly as he could. As he walked in the door, Phryne—immaculate and beautifully appointed as always—made her presence known. “Jack! Oh, Jack, how lovely!” she said lavishly, weaving her way across the room, bumping into things that weren’t even in her path. Jack hid a grin at her intoxicated state.  
Phryne, once she reached him, clapped one hand against his chest and abruptly laid her head against his shoulder. Jack looked over her head at Mac, who was watching the proceedings with a sour look, and asked, “How did this happen?”  
Mac said disgustedly, “You know how she is! She was just fiddling about with things while she was talking to me, and the next thing I knew she had opened the nozzle of that NO2. You see the result.”  
Jack looked down at Phryne, who was nuzzling his necktie. “Why was she here in the first place? Does she have a case?”  
Mac paused only for a moment before answering. “No, we were just talking about…the things women talk about,” she said lightly. _You, you dolt,_ Mac thought to herself in amusement; but that was a secret she’d keep for Phryne.  
“Hmmm,” Jack said thoughtfully. Phryne raised her head and looked at him with a loopy smile.  
“Do that again,” she demanded.  
“Do what?” Jack asked.  
“Hum,” she said. “Say Hmmm.”  
Jack was puzzled. “And…why would I do that?”  
“So I can feel it again.” She put her head against his chest once more.  
Jack looked over her head at Mac, who was struggling to control her mirth. He took Phryne by the shoulders and set her away from him.  
“Oh,” she said sadly.  
“Mac. What should we do? Should I take her home?”  
Phryne threw her head back and spread her arms wide in dramatic pronouncement. “Take me home, Jack!” she said extravagantly.  
Mac warned, “I’d like to see you try driving her home. She’ll be grabbing the wheel, changing gears…I’ll drive, if you’ll contain her in the back.”  
Jack frowned. “I really can’t allow a civilian to drive a police cruiser.”  
Mac gave him a devilish look. “That’s no problem. The Hispano is out front!” Jack groaned. 

When they arrived at 221B The Esplanade, Jack thanked Mac for the smoothest ride he’d ever enjoyed in the Hispano—apart from the flailing of the other occupant of the back seat.  
“All right, Miss Fisher,” he said to Phryne, “let me help you out of the car.”  
“Carry me, Jack!” Phryne teased. “Remember when you carried me?”  
He looked askance at her. “I don’t think _you_ remember when I carried you. You were drugged.” The more he tried to assist her up the path to her front door, the more she kept entwining her legs with his, or hanging from his shoulders. Mac followed, silently. This show was far too good to interrupt.  
“ _You’re_ the one who can’t remember!” Phryne said pompously. “That drug worked just as he said it would. I couldn’t move—and I’d stupidly closed my eyes—but I was aware of everything. Everything.” She stopped short and stared at Jack. “You were so nice to poor little Jane…she was so frightened…” Now Phryne was getting teary.  
Jack had dealt with far too many weepy drunks in his career to be much affected by this. “Phryne. That’s over now, long in the past,” he said firmly. They were almost to the door. Mac had finally gone ahead and alerted Mr. Butler, who had come to meet them.  
“Oh, my,” Mr. Butler said.  
“Oh, Mr. Butler,” Phryne sang. “My butler, Mr. Butler. What a happy coincidence!”  
Mr. Butler exchanged an amused look with Jack, then deferred to Mac. “To the bedroom, I assume, Doctor?”  
“I guess it’ll have to be. Sorry about those stairs.”  
Jack was already pondering them. “Phryne, can you make it up the stairs?”  
“Of course! I do it all the time!” she proclaimed, and tripped over Jack’s foot, falling flat in the hallway.  
Mr. Butler met the Inspector’s eyes and said calmly, “I’ll take her feet.” 

Somehow they managed to get Phryne to her bedroom. Mr. Butler withdrew and left her in the care of Jack and Mac. They got her to the bed, which was well timed: as the drug wore off, she was left feeling depleted and sleepy. She was still hanging on to Jack, so he sat on the bed with her, and helped her swing her legs up so she could lay flat. As he did so, she grabbed at his arm and ran her fingers down his sleeve.  
She gently took hold of his hand as he sat beside her there. She curled into the pillow, looked into his eyes, and sighed. “Oh, Jack. I do so love you. You know that, don’t you?”  
Mac froze at this unexpected turn of events. Jack had been stoically putting up with all of Phryne’s nonsense, mostly managing to suppress his laughter at her hijinks, since Mac first called him. But this…  
He didn’t give any indication that he took this any more seriously than anything else Phryne had said; but Mac was trained to notice changes in respiration. She saw the warm glow in his dark eyes. _Yes, you heard it,_ Mac thought to herself in amusement; but that was a secret she’d keep for Jack.  
Jack turned Phryne’s hand in his. “See if you can sleep, Phryne.”  
“Will you stay? Till I fall asleep?” She sounded like a child.  
“Yes.” He looked at Mac and shrugged. Mac grinned, and went back down the stairs. 

It was only a short time later when Jack came down the stairs himself and joined Mac in the parlour. He sat down heavily.  
Almost immediately, Mr. Butler appeared with two whiskeys. “Good man, Mr. Butler!” Mac cried.  
Jack looked Mr. Butler in the eye. “I think you deserve one, too.”  
Mr. Butler answered pleasantly, “Oh, I’ve just finished one, in the kitchen, sir.”  
Mac and Jack instantly raised their drinks and said almost as one, “To Mr. Butler!” as their glasses clinked together. Mr. Butler bowed and withdrew.

Away from their respective jobs, Mac was surprised at how easy it was to converse with the Inspector, and time passed quickly. After half an hour, Mac said, “I believe I’ll go check on my patient.”  
Jack stood when she did. “I should get back to work.”  
“Oh, come with me!” Mac said. “Don’t you want to know how this all turns out?”  
Jack reluctantly admitted he did, and followed her up the stairs. 

When they got to the bedroom, Phryne was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding her head in her hands. She looked sideways up at the two of them, through her fingers and the hair that was falling across her face. “I feel awful,” she said in a tiny voice.  
“Serves you right,” Mac said heartlessly. “You never will learn. How do you like the aftereffects of nitrous oxide? ”  
“Is that what it was?” She looked Jack’s way. “And how did you get involved? Just my luck that you showed up?”  
“No,” Jack said softly, stepping further into the room. “Mac called me.”  
“Oh. I’ve been quite a problem.” She looked up through her fingers again. “Mac, my head feels ready to explode.”  
“I’ll go see if Mr. Butler can find some headache powders.” Mac turned and went down the stairs.  
“Thank you,” Phryne said. 

Alone with Jack, she patted the side of the bed. “Sit beside me? It hurts too much to keep looking up at you.”  
He sat. “You’ve had quite a day. But you’ll feel better soon.”  
“Thank you. For everything.” She was beginning to seem more herself.  
She gently took hold of his hand as he sat beside her there. She pushed the hair out of her face, looked into his eyes, and sighed. “Oh, Jack. I do so appreciate you. You know that, don’t you?”  
A pensive smile spread across his face, and there was a gleam in his eyes, as if he knew something she didn’t. She looked at him quizzically.  
With a barely perceptible nod, he answered simply, “I know."


End file.
